THE FRENCH RIVIERA IS FABULOUS. AFTER 20 YEARS OF STELLAR ADVICE, DOES RICK STEVES DROP THE BALL?
Right off the bat, please don’t dwell on the negative. I’ll get back to my travel guru Rick Steves later. I’m currently on a time-out from watching him on Youtube until I calm down. I’ve been advised to practice deep breathing until I centre my Chi (whatever that means). Let’s move to the main event. For the last four days, we have been living the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous (Starring Robin Leach). You know, champagne wishes and caviar dreams. In reality, we enjoyed very little in the way of opulence; however, what we did enjoy was just what the doctor ordered. We didn’t drive to Monaco in a drop-top Bentley along the upper corniche. In reality we actually rode the rails with the French National Railway Company (SNCF). Why cause unnecessary work for those overworked valet parking guys at the Monte Carlo Casino? They are already going to be hopping busy from eight in the morning until later in the day. So many hypercars, so many luxury cars, so many horrific stretched G-Wagon’s with Dubai licence plates. Having an abundance of money does not presuppose good taste, my mother always said!
Our base for this trip was Nice. It's in a great location as geographically it provides options to visit prominent places in either direction along the Mediterranean coast. Even though I already regret using this vernacular, it's not our first rodeo in this area. Nice is big, but the old town with its Italian colours and charms makes it very warm & quaint. The absolute game changer for people wanting to spend quality time locally this summer is that there are very few tourists. Sure, it's easy to recognise the expected German, Dutch, Swiss, Italian, and Belgian accents. However, they are next-door neighbours and free to make anywhere in the EU home. There are no cruise ships and no bus tours. It's really some sort of post-apocalyptic nirvana. I have never had a more relaxing slow-paced experience in this part of the world since our honeymoon in the early '90s.
After settling in at our hotel, we grabbed a tram pass and headed towards the Promenade des Anglais. We wandered the length of the "Prom," investigating the old town. Later in the day our walk back was just what the doctor ordered to get rid of our stiffness & stress from the drive here along the A8. It is around a two and a half hour road trip from our house to Nice. If you would prefer to make Monte Carlo your base, just tack on another 15 minutes. Whether you're wandering along the P.D.A. or getting lost in the narrow back streets of the old town, Nice never disappoints with its pastel buildings deep blue water. The following may be way too many images to illustrate the benefits of life on the French Riviera. Apologies in advance!!
Moving on from the Promenade and into the old town. Nice was firmly part of Italy until relatively recent times (in European History).The colours are reminiscent of the Cinque Terra or the Veneto’s Burano. In my experience, coastal Italian places have a firm hold on just what pastel colour works for each and every square inch of their buildings. We wandered and then took a break for refreshment. We were told by our lovely server and the owner of Cafe Simone that we sounded just like another guest, who sat 10 meters away and apparently from Colorado. Having had the opportunity to hear every word Miss Colorado had uttered in the 15 minutes since we sat down at a volume well above all the other patrons combined, we asked our new friend to reconsider her earlier statement. Here are a few images from inside the walls of old town Nice (Cubanisto Beer from Spain is good because it has rum in it?).
Moving on to Monaco and all that is a principality. The roads are as perfect as you expect for the home of an F1 race. Don’t try to find litter anywhere, or for that matter, don’t bother trying to find anything out of place at all. You would think that there was a municipal sanitation engineer for every resident and visitor, but I did not see one the entire time we were there. They must only come out at night like bats or for those who grew up with British children’s television, Wombles. Google Wombles if you fear the unknown. Once again a thirteen-kilometre day, and it was a terrific way to take in the beauty and luxury of one of the most financially solvent places on the planet. If you have ever contemplated purchasing a pleasure boat the size of an aircraft carrier or a relatively small 100m2 apartment for 4,200,000 Euros, then you are in the right place. Of course, we went to the casino. Of course, I remembered to know my limit and stay within it. Of course, we wandered the F1 track and the inner harbour. We stopped midday for a really lovely Thai meal in the shadow of one of the mega-yachts registered in Malta. For those who have read the odd news story about Eastern European organised crime in Malta of late, then look no further for evidence of offshore banking and dirty deals done dirt cheap (as ACDC once sang). Regardless, Monaco is top-shelf. It’s hard to feel safer anywhere else in the world. Like everywhere in sensible Europe, Monaco has adopted the Covid passport system. Sorry anti-vaxers and anti-maskers, but if you have no evidence of being inoculated, then have your groceries delivered and make sure your cable bill is paid up to date. Be as woke as you wish about choice and social justice, but sporting purple hair and a ton of face shrapnel won’t cause European governments to relent and allow the virus to continue to spread further. Shine on you crazy diamond / Facebook warrior!
With a day or two left to explore and always the better for embracing one of Rick Steves top travel tips, we decided to get on the train and head for Antibes. Yes, we buy his guide books, yes I taught all our kids the wonders of travel as we watched his show after supper on PBS when they were young. We have never gone wrong by following his advice. “Only go to the Louvre on a Friday evening to have the place to yourself.” “Saunter up to the Mona Lisa as you please.” In this case, Antibes has always been Mr. Steves top tip for accommodation and relaxation. Mr. Steves has described Antibes as out of the hustle and bustle of Nice. A warm and inviting place.
I will state that the main reason for getting aboard the train for us was to visit the Pablo Picasso museum. The standout experience in Antibes. Picasso lived and worked in this “small” castle on the waterfront of Antibes after the war when he moved south from Paris. He painted, drew and sculpted until his death in 1973. I am not sure why but he passed away just north of Cannes in a town called Mougins. We were the second ticket holders in line at opening time, and that guaranteed (post covid pass check) that we were free to enjoy every one of the gallery rooms in near silence and alone. An experience I will never forget and quite moving.
I can’t say how long we spent inside, but after wandering at our leisure, we left with a curiosity for more of Antibes and more cubist art. Let’s say that Antibes is a fine place but not outstanding after you have spent time in other coastal towns. We did visit the covered market, which was of excellent quality. We tried our first slice of Socca (chickpea crepes with lots of pepper) along with a stall-bought cantaloupe. The town vibe is a bit brash, and sadly I can now unequivocally state that I have had a bad meal in France. The waiter was 11, maybe at a push 13. Hard to tell. The service was what you would now imagine. At one point, I watched a young man at the table to our left take the Rose bottle from the child waiter and show him how to use a corkscrew. And I thought that was a skill all 5-year-olds had in this part of the world.
Our meal was not worth describing, and if not for the fact that the heavens opened up and poured buckets of rain onto our table’s very large umbrella, we would have left much earlier. I had the late presence of mind to check the google reviews about the place as we sat trying to stay dry. An average of 2 stars. I am being very kind by saying it was shit. I know this because every review I read stated it was the worst restaurant experience they had ever had. When we saw a break in the bad weather, we made our way through this average town and back to the train station for our trip to Nice. Go for Picasso but find a better place to eat. Do your research! The first of a few images may be an indication of what I describe. I can only assume these Aussies were late with the municipal taxes because they bricked up every door and window.
I apologise upfront for the length of this post, but when I sat down this morning, I knew I had an hour or two, and I can't predict what tomorrow will bring. I have clearly included three visits into one blog, but I'm sure you can see the correlation between all three based on proximity alone. As far as Antibes and Mr. Steves go, this post describing our time there has been cathartic and exercised most of the demons I have been harbouring. Yes, he recommends it above all other Mediterranean towns. Yes, I can't entirely agree. This one discrepancy in an otherwise perfect travel relationship with the Mistro happened, but it is not fatal. We will live to travel another day with the help of Mr. Steves. We all drop the ball now and then!
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Live well!
Mark
p.s. all photos taken with the Leica M10-R and the Leica Q2.
